Page 30 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

“Dinnae ye dare use me as an excuse for yer recklessness,” she snapped.

Damon took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space. “Recklessness? Ye think I enjoy playin’ the tyrant? Everything I’ve done has been for this clan—for our stability.”

Lilith refused to back down, even as her pulse quickened. “And yet ye cannae trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

Their gazes locked, the tension between them crackling like a storm.

“Ye want the truth?” Damon growled, his voice low and dangerous. “The truth is, I’ve spent every moment since we wed wonderin’ if ye’ll ever see me as more than the brute who took Magnus’s place.”

Lilith’s breath hitched, his words cutting deeper than she had expected. “And whose fault is that? Ye keep me at arm’s length, treat me like a stranger in me own home. This is me home, Damon!Mine!”

He stepped closer, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Maybe I’ve been tryin’ to protect ye from the monsters ye cannae even imagine exist, but I ken them all too well.”

Her anger boiled over. “I dinnae need yer protection, Damon. I need a partner.”

“I didnae vow to be yer partner. I vowed to protect ye, honor ye, and respect ye. Or did ye forget already?”

“Andbe me husband. When were ye goin’ to tell me about the assassin?”

“Tonight. It is our second night, is it nae? Unless ye didnae wish?—”

“I didnae say that!”

Infuriating as he was, she had questions she needed him to answer, but when she looked around, she didn’t see another bottle of whiskey.

“Where is the whiskey?” she asked.

The smirk that tugged at his lips did little to cool her irritation. “Nay whiskey tonight, wife.”

“Well, what’s this then?” she asked, hands on her hips.

Damon reached for the book and winced as the movement pulled at the wound in his shoulder.

Immediately, Lilith’s hands were on his arm, and she knelt beside him. “Do ye need?—”

“Nay, I’m fine,” he said quickly through gritted teeth as the pain throbbed down his arm.

“Dinnae lie to me! Should I call for the?—”

“I’ve never lied to ye, and I will never lie to ye. Now, quit yer fashin’. I’m fine, lass.” He put his hand over hers to soothe her nerves.

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. For a moment, neither of them moved, their breaths mingling in the charged space between them.

Then, Damon’s eyes dropped to the book in her hand before his gaze climbed back up her body, lingering on her lips, then back to her eyes.

Before she could say anything, he reached out, his hand brushing her cheek with surprising tenderness.

“Ye infuriate me, woman,” he murmured, his voice rough.

“And ye drive me mad,” Lilith shot back, though her voice had softened.

Without warning, his lips crashed against hers, fierce and demanding. The kiss was a battle of wills, their anger and passion colliding in a fiery explosion. Lilith’s hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she gave as good as she got.

Damon’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him, his grip possessive. Her curves melted into him, and the world outside ceased to exist. There was only the two of them, their shared fury transforming into something deeper, more primal.

Lilith’s mind spun, her anger melting into a haze of desire. She had never felt anything like this—so consuming, so overwhelming. Damon’s hand pressed against her chest while his other hand worked to pull her skirts up.

She couldn’t think—she just knew she wanted more. More pressure, more of his kiss, more…